


I Know a Little

by caixa



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018 IIHF Ice Hockey World Championships, Age Difference, Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Endgame Sebastian Aho/Teuvo Teräväinen, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Tension, Team Finland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23092339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa
Summary: Finland is out of the tournament, the men’s room is out of order and Sebastian Aho is more than a hockey genius.
Relationships: Sebastian Aho/Teuvo Teravainen, Sebastian Aho/Veli-Matti Savinainen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	I Know a Little

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sister_Grimm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sister_Grimm/gifts).
  * A translation of [Tappiolla tappiin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728286) by [caixa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa). 

> This is a translation of my own work, and despite having the same pairing as my other fic, Midnight in Paris, and being set in a similar tournament one year later, this is a completely independent story. The original version of this is actually an older work but I got so fascinated with the pairing that I needed to write the other one.
> 
> For any new Finnish readers, I highly recommend the version in Finnish. Or, read both.
> 
> Hannah, I know you're not a big fluff enthusiast but this is for you, for a reason.
> 
> This is a work of fiction.

_I know a little ‘bout love  
Baby, I can guess the rest_

(Lynyrd Skynyrd / Steve Gaines, 1977)

The bathroom door swings on its hinges and nearly hits Sebastian in the face. He ducks it just barely and thanks his reflexes, still working even though he has downed a few Danish beers in order to drown the acute heartache and pain from the quarter final loss to Switzerland.

He’s not the only one with the same goal. Veli-Matti Savinainen is the one who has almost hit him with the door on his way out of the men’s room of the bar of their hotel and he’s swaying on his feet now, having stopped abruptly when he noticed Sebastian outside the door.

“Sorry, man!” Veli-Matti says. “Did I hit you?”

“No, it’s okay.”

Veli-Matti shakes his head and points over his shoulder with his thumb.

“I can’t believe the fucking lines in there. The urinal is out of use and they have only two stalls. Man, I’m going to burst soon. I’ll have to go outside. There must be a bush or something.”

“Don’t!” Sebastian warns. “With our luck someone will take a pic of you and you’ll be all over the gossip pages with your dick out. Let’s go upstairs, use the bathroom of the hotel room.”

“Whoa!” Veli-Matti lets out an appreciative noise and narrows his eyes to lock his gaze in Sebastian’s face, nodding approvingly. “That’s one hell of a great idea. You’re definitely more than a hockey genius, Sepe.” He takes a step at the direction of the lobby, towards the elevators. “Which room?” he asks over his shoulder.

Sebastian digs his key card out of his pocket, from behind his phone, and waves it in the air.

“I have a key to ours.”

“Awesome,” Veli-Matti says and digs into his own pocket. He pulls out a flat little silver flask. “And I have a drink for us.”

Sebastian takes a gulp from the flask that Veli-Matti politely offers to him first when they wait for the elevator. The raw alcohol burns in his mouth and he grimaces.

“Thanks but also, uh. What the hell is this?”

“Something Danish,” Veli-Matti answers, taking a sip. “Can’t remember the name.”

“My call!” Sebastian exclaims as he leaps into the elevator once its doors slide open. The inside joke has spread in the team through the tournament, trying to beat the others in the race for the elevator button. It started when Veli-Matti talked about how his son had started to compete about _everything_ with his friends, like who gets the open the door when his kindergarten class goes out to play. It was, somehow, pretty relatable.

Veli-Matti doesn’t let him win. Sebastian almost gets his hand on the button but Veli-Matti tackles him away from the panel. It’s not that much of a hip check as it is just _leaning_ into Sebastian with the persistent pressure of his body weight, at the same time intimidating and strangely comforting. It forces Sebastian to the back corner of the elevator, and Veli-Matti slaps his hand over the numbered button.

The elevator moves and Veli-Matti lets Sebastian go, turning to face him in slow moves.

“Elders first,” Veli-Matti says and winks. Sebastian lets out a little giggle. Veli-Matti is funny and he smells nice, it’s subtle but it’s got to be expensive, something spicy over foresty scents of moss and wood.

The elevator lulls to a soft stop. Sebastian is almost ready to step out when he notices that the number on the display above the door doesn’t match his floor.

“Dude, you sent us to the wrong floor! You should have let me handle it.”

He has his finger on the right button – but gets checked to the side again. Veli-Matti presses him to the wall, this time facing him, and calmly pushes the button, not pulling away when he’s done.

Sebastian adjusts to the pressure, lets his body go lax between Veli-Matti and the wall, soaks in the strength keeping him pinned, holding him up. Sebastian feels the warm hard body sternly against him, the sharp bone of the hip, chest, thighs.

Veli-Matti places his palms flat on the wall both sides of Sebastian’s head, the tattooed arms framing his vision. Sebastian catches the pale green eyes, locks his gaze in them.

Up close Veli-Matti looks so – grown-up. Fine lines and healed scars mark his face, there’s a dent in the nose – Sebastian has never asked when he has broken it.

The elevator pings again. Veli-Matti checks the floor from the corner of his eye, pushes himself off the wall, off Sebastian. He doesn’t have to ask where to go: over the course of the tournament the routes to each teammates’ rooms have sunk in their muscle memory.

It’s been so good, the bonding, the togetherness. Sebastian hates that it has to end.

Sebastian gives Veli-Matti the first use of the bathroom and opens a can of beer from the minibar. He hands it to Veli-Matti when he comes back in the room and Veli-Matti smiles gratefully.

“Thanks! I just made some room for this,” he grins.

Funny, Sebastian thinks when he’s washing his hands, that they haven’t ever really been together, just the two of them. It just hasn’t happened in this year’s tournament or the year before in Paris and Cologne. There’s no real reason behind it: it’s just more usual to move around in a bit larger groups of a few teammates.

Teuvo is the only one with whom Sebastian really has spent one-on-one time. But that’s different. Teuvo is a roommate, and his best friend in Raleigh. He’s special.

Has Veli-Matti read his thoughts?

“Did you tell Teuvo you left the bar?” he asks.

Why is he asking, what’s the point? It’s not like he and Teuvo are constantly watching over each other.

“I said I’m going to the bathroom. He’s fine.”

“I’m sure he is. But wouldn’t want him to worry.”

Sebastian throws a sidelong glance at Veli-Matti as he bows down to dig another beer from the fridge below the mounted desk. Veli-Matti leans to the desktop half standing and when Sebastian glances around the room, he can see why. Both his and Teuvo’s beds are covered in clothes, charger wires, game controllers and various papers, and the few odd chairs of the room are loaded with more unpacked laundry. They haven’t really got to it yet, packing.

“He won’t,” Sebastian says and opens his can.

Veli-Matti smirks and nudges his cheek with a crooked finger.

“You would know.”

Sebastian stretches his lips to an awkward half-smile and Veli-Matti brushes his cheek with the finger again, smiles amicably and looks at him head bowed down, from under his brows.

“No offense, Sepe, okay? I’ve just never played with a pair that works on the ice like you. It was so awesome to play with you two because it’s all so – effortless. You just click. I’ve never seen that kind of connection. It was so great to be a part of it.”

Sebastian’s smile evolves into a genuine one until one word hits him.

_Was_. It _was_ awesome to play. It _was_ great.

Why the fuck does it have to end?

He sighs and grimaces before he throws his head back to take an impatient gulp of the beer. It’s an abrupt move, a bit too fast, and the beer foams out of the opening of the can. Shit. He has to seal his lips quickly over it, and the foam streams into his mouth. He swallows it, a drop rolls down his chin, he wipes it with a fingertip and licks his lips.

He glances at Veli-Matti to see if he’s having fun on his account but he’s happy to see such pure compassion in his eyes that he has no need to feel embarrassed.

“It would have been so great to play more games,” he says and settles his butt next to Veli-Matti on the edge of the table.

“Yeah. It would.”

Sebastian senses deep rooted pain in the short words and doesn’t wonder why. Savinainen has given the whole spring to the national team, through practice camps, the Olympics, all kinds of games. His KHL season ended before the playoffs, it must have hurt just as much as missing the NHL playoffs hurt him in Carolina.

It’s rough. The work you do in Finland earns you a break in a higher paying league, brighter lights, faster game, bigger arenas, and what do you get? The money isn’t really enough of a reward, _the_ reward, when it comes to sports. You are in it to win what you compete for. And when Veli-Matti has got his shot for the big victories he was already years older Sebastian is now.

Compared to that, Sebastian got it easy in here. He got to jump on a train that other people have worked on to get going for weeks, months. Sure, he has had a lot of responsibility in the team, scoring them goals, getting them wins, but he has done it at a table already set by a hard-working squad.

Veli-Matti, if anyone, would have deserved more.

A touch of the strong, dexterous hand on the nape of Sebastian’s neck wakes him up from his musings.

“What are you thinking so deeply?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Nothing. Or, you know. This sucks.”¨

“Yeah, that.” Veli-Matti nudges his shoulder with his own. “Let’s forget about it now, okay?” He raises the silver flask and rattles it like trying to assess its weight and offers it to Sebastian. “Bottoms up, kiddo.”

Sebastian takes the flask. This time the booze doesn’t burn, the beer has paved the way. Veli-Matti smiles at him and tilts his head back to shake the last drops into his mouth.

“Good boy. You didn’t leave me much.”

“Isn’t that what ‘bottoms up’ means?”

“You’re right. It is.”

Veli-Matti stands up and stays there, in front of Sebastian, looks at him head tilted to the side and extends his hands towards him.

“Get here, Sepe. I want to hug you.”

Sebastian pushes himself off the desk and steps into the embrace of the tattooed arms. They drape around his shoulders and he wraps his own across Veli-Matti’s back around his ribcage, under his arms.

Veli-Matti’s arms are taut and hard, two hard fists press between his shoulder blades. It’s a firm hug that reminds him of the stern force with which Veli-Matti pressed him to the back corner of the elevator. It feels dangerously good, almost like being trapped by a large male feline: a tiger, a lean jaguar.

The strong arms tighten their grip around him and he wants to forget everything, just enjoy it, the closeness. Maybe the pain of the loss would go away, if – if what? What if.

No words form in his mind after the _if_ but maybe he won’t need them, if (_if!_) he just goes with the flow, sees what’s coming and follows his gut feeling, trusts his senses.

Veli-Matti smells even better up close, it’s more _real_. Some alcohol and a little sweat mix with the cologne. And the subtle musky base, it must be just _him,_ skin and flesh that have been through more than Sebastian can imagine. The taut fists on his back as two tight-wound knots, pressing hard.

Sebastian spreads his fingers on Veli-Matti’s back, gathers the fabric of his shirt as widely under them as he reaches, curls them against the back again, wrinkles the shirt, feels the muscle under his fingertips. He turns his face to bury it on the side Veli-Matti’s neck, nuzzles the bare skin, presses as close as he can.

Veli-Matti gasps, it’s almost a sniffle, as if Sebastian had hurt him. His fists open, one hand rises to the nape of Sebastian’s neck, up to his hairline, rubs it in firm moves. The other arm drapes across his back, the hand slides slowly down his side until it stops on his waistline, squeezes a warm grip.

“Sepe.”

Sebastian won’t let go. He breathes on Veli-Matti’s neck from an open mouth, rubs the the collar of Veli-Matti’s T-shirt against his collarbone with his chin. He feels Veli-Matti’s throat move when he swallows, feels the grip of his hand squeezing his waist, feels the other hand petting his hair.

He tilts his face up, feels the skin of the strong neck tremble against his closed lips, he could part them, he could –

He hesitates for a second and it’s a second enough for Veli-Matti to start loosening his hug, to pull away.

The hand brushes the side of his neck on its way from his hair, lingers there for a moment. Sebastian presses his cheek against it.

“You little motherfucker,” Veli-Matti whispers. His speech comes out in his usual quick staccato but his voice is thick and husky. There is a sea of tenderness in his green eyes, they gleam in the indirect lighting of the room.

Veli-Matti tackles Sebastian away from the elevator buttons on the way downstairs. Sebastian giggles, slips like a wet soap from between his body and the wall, goes around him in one quick leap and finally succeeds in hitting the button for the ground floor behind Veli-Matti’s back. Veli-Matti tries to stop him, grabbing the back of his hand, but this time he’s too late.

“Yes!” Sebastian exclaims.

Veli-Matti keeps his hold of his hand. He turns and bends it down in front of Sebastian’s chest until the sharp angle of the wrist almost hurts. Sebastian backs in front of him in the moving elevator like they were dancing some kind of an awkward tango.

The floor of the elevator jerks under their feet. The lights flicker until they die.

It’s pitch black and silent.

“What the –“ Sebastian groans. A dim little lamp starts to gleam in the ceiling, casting greenish light and black shadows on their faces.

“Blackout,” Veli-Matti says. “Does _everything_ fail today?”

_Everything?_ Sebastian is tempted to ask, softly and slowly, he won’t say seductively but they are standing face to face, and Veli-Matti is holding his hand, and what happens in the dark doesn’t count, does it?

“Maybe this won’t fail,” he whispers. His heart pounds, this feels like a reckless free fall, but he places his free hand gently on the back of Veli-Matti’s head, rubs the short blond hair, slides the hand up until he can sink his fingers among the longer hair on top, guides Veli-Matti’s face closer to his own.

The kiss is a chaste little peck, not as much hesitant as a cautious, controlled move, testing the waters. Something easy to laugh off as a drunk joke, party bro tomfoolery, just guys being dudes.

The first one, that is.

Because, then – a shameless wet tongue, a large crooked tooth that hits Sebastian's lip until he opens it more, out of the way, fucking demanding, greedy glutton lips. Hands of hot steel on his ass over his jeans, fingers sinking in, pulling close. Fucking insanity, deeper and darker he could ever have expected, heated and throbbing.

Warm hard body, sharp cut of the hip, stomach, chest; hard thigh pushing, intruding, invading his space. He’s hungry and thirsty for this, anything, the mouth and the hands and the body, the touch, all the rough head-on motions against his own.

Please don’t stop, don’t ever fucking stop.

They have to stop.

Veli-Matti moves his hands up his body, rests his wrists on Sebastian’s shoulders, places his hands on the sides of his neck. His lips break the kiss slowly, gradually, he leaves his forehead leaning to Sebastian’s. He breathes heavily, looks him in the eye in the murky gloom, almost too close to focus. The lack of light keeps his pupils unnaturally dilated, black holes circled with narrow green ring.

“This elevator,” Veli-Matti pants quietly, “Can start moving at any moment.” He strokes Sebastian’s cheeks with his thumbs. “But fuck, you little devil. You really are hot. Hot one.”

He straightens his back and strolls to the control panel, with one more brush on Sebastian’s neck before he detaches his hand. Sebastian follows him.

Veli-Matti pushes every button without a reaction. Even the one with a phone icon, round holes in the metal and the text 24/7 next to it, only answers him with silence.

“We’re stuck,” Sebastian says.

“Yes we are,” Veli-Matti replies.

Sebastian digs two miniature size bottles out of his pocket, he took them with him from the minibar without a second thought. Veli-Matti glances at them, lifts his eyes to Sebastian’s face, winks his eye and snorts out a short laugh.

“It was those you had in there? What a disappointment. I thought you liked me for real.”

“I liked you,” Sebastian chuckles and cracks both of the bottles open. “Pick one,” he shows them to Veli-Matti. Veli-Matti takes the gin and Sebastian sneers a little at the scotch he’s left with, it _may_ make him sick but whatever.

“Na zdorovje,” Veli-Matti says and clacks the bottles together.

Sebastian doesn’t down his in one go. Whiskey takes two.

Veli-Matti slumps down on the floor, leans to the wall, tapping the floor slowly with his shoes.

“Does your phone work?” he asks, looking up at Sebastian. “If they’d have some information. I left mine in my room.”

Sebastian takes his from his pocket and sits down next to Veli-Matti.

Shit. He should have taken the first look alone. The lockscreen is ablaze with messages from Teuvo, a couple of them are new.

> Everything ok?
> 
> Blackout in the bar. I didn’t find you in the bathroom. U OK?
> 
> I’ll go look for you soon but they said we should stay in here until the power comes back
> 
> Please call! We don’t have to talk if you don’t want but please tell you’re fine

Another notification shows the number of missed calls.

Sebastian wipes the notifications out of sight as soon as he can and opens an app for local news. There’s nothing about a power failure.

Veli-Matti doesn’t even try to pretend he hasn’t seen Sebastian’s screen. Sebastian sees from the corner of his eye that he glares and frowns at him.

“Aren’t you going to call him back?” Veli-Matti asks sharply, almost angrily.

Sebastian bites his lip, locks his phone and pockets it.

”Sepe?”

Sebastian stares at his feet. “He could have caught that last puck,” he mutters.

“Hey. Hey, hey.” Veli-Matti leans back and darts a pointed look at Sebastian. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

Sebastian glances at him sharply. Veli-Matti shakes his head.

“Time out, Sebastian Aho,” he says and does a time out signal with his hands. “Don’t tell me you are _that_ guy. ‘Cos you are not. No way. You know it, we’re _together _out there, we win and lose together, sometimes it bounces our way, sometimes not. It sucks, it fucking does, we all hate it now, but… you _know_ it wouldn’t have changed anything. We lost the wrong game. Together.”

Sebastian doesn’t answer.

“Fuck no, Sepe,” Veli-Matti says and runs his hands through his hair. “You can’t treat someone you love like that.”

Sebastian flinches at the word _love_, his shoulders jerk up, he throws a gloomy look at Veli-Matti, eyes almost black in the darkness.

“And who loves you,” Veli-Matti continues relentlessly, shrugs and spreads his hands, elbows leaning to his knees. “I don’t care what your deal is, if you two fuck or if you’re brothers, but believe me, Sepe. I know enough about love to know how it looks. And it looks nothing like the shit you’re trying to pull now.”

Sebastian stares ahead, grateful for the darkness that covers the blush that is, judging from the burn, creeping on his cheeks.

Veli-Matti extends his finger and turns Sebastian's face towards himself, forces him to an eye contact.

“Get a grip, dude. Now. Take that phone and call him, and he’ll get us out of here. He’ll be the hero of the night and you will thank him for it. And about all this –“ Veli-Matti gestures between the two of them – “Not a word. It stays here. Are we clear?”

Sebastian feels like he had been told off by a coach.

He stands up because it’s easier to access the phone in the pocket standing straight, and taps on the last missed call.

A maintenance man opens the elevator doors with his tools and they jump down to the lobby from the elevator stuck between floors. Sebastian draws Teuvo, who has been closely watching the rescue operation, in a tight hug, rocks him from side to side and ignores Veli-Matti’s gently amused looks.

Dim emergency lighting shows them the way back to the bar. If it was cramped and steamy when they left, it is even more so now that the air conditioning is out of use.

As soon as they step from the carpet of the lobby to the shabby chic wooden planks of the bar, the lights go up, fridges start humming and music starts blasting. Veli-Matti nudges Sebastian’s arm with his elbow.

“Look, it was all just waiting for the real stars to step in!”

* * *

_Well, I know a little ‘bout love  
_ _Baby I want your best_

Sebastian hears gurgling sound, and a whistling sound. He believes he is awake but he keeps his eyes shut, just for comfort. As soon as he lets the eyelids crack open even the tiniest bit, light shines in through them, and it’s something… he can do without for a while.

It’s warm. He is lying face down in underpants and a T-shirt and has no recollection of how he ended up in bed. Bed it is, anyway; he recognizes the slippery static of the hotel bedsheets, the lingering smell of fabric softener always stuck to them, the constant hum of air conditioning.

What about the other sounds that seem to come from everywhere? Wait, no, from two separate directions.

Sebastian opens his eyes.

Teuvo. Asleep next to him, head on a pillow next to his. Teuvo breaths through his nose, air whistles in his nostril every few breaths. He sleeps on his back, dressed in a white T-shirt at least down to his chest, the rest of his body is under a shared blanket.

Well, Teuvo’s blanket. They are in his bed.

And what about – stop, he is _not_ going to check if Teuvo is wearing pants too.

Sebastian turns his head to check out his own bed.

Savinainen is snoring there, shirtless, covered up to his waist, arms spread so wide that the nearer one hangs down over the side of the bed.

How did they end up like this? Sebastian struggles to remember but his memory gets choppy from the point they got back to the bar. The miniature scotch was a wrong choice, or then he has made a few more questionable choices after it.

Did he try to match Veli-Matti in taking tequila shots at some point of the night? He did _not _grab Teuvo’s hand to sprinkle salt on it and lick it, God, please, did he?

Well, if he did, he has a vague picture that Teuvo didn’t mind too much. If a mental snapshot that his memory offers him is real, at some point Teuvo’s mouth was so close to his ear that he felt the breath as a warm breeze on his neck, and heard a reassuring whispered promise _No worries Sepe, I’ll take care of you, I won’t let you be harmed_.

He to his side to face Teuvo who opens his eyes, yawns, stretches and smiles languidly.

“Morning. You’re up,” Teuvo says.

Sebastian answers him with a half-awkward grin. He has to gather some courage.

“Yeah I am. But…” he hesitates, “Sorry that I ask but why am I in your bed?”

Teuvo smirks, extends his hand and plays with a strand of Sebastian’s hair.

“You just – crawled in and stayed there. It’s always the same thing with you. You just never leave me alone.”

Sebastian huffs at him, smiling. “Teukka, please. For real?” He sighs and looks at the ceiling, crunching his nose. “Fuck this isn’t healthy. I shouldn’t have drunk that much. Honestly, I don’t even remember how we got here.” He looks pleadingly at Teuvo. ”Tell me. I was terrible, wasn’t I? How awful was it? Like, whatever – I’m sorry. I guess.”

Teuvo purses his lip to hold back a smile but the look in his eyes is so warm that Sebastian isn’t really fooled.

“Yes you were,” Teuvo grins, “_So_ awful. When we left the bar, you just had to drape yourself around me and hang on to me. I _really_ had to use all my strength to walk straight in your drunk hug.”

“Oh my gosh, no,” Sebastian says and giggles. “What then? Or before it.”

Teuvo frowns slightly. ”I don’t know if it’s something you’d want to hear. I mean, honestly, you were so wasted. We can just forget it.”

Sebastian darts a sharp look at him. “Please tell it.”

Teuvo props his head up from his pillow and peeks over Sebastian into the other bed.

“Well, he came to talk to me,” he lowers his voice to a whisper and nods at Veli-Matti with his head, “Right after we had come back to the bar from the elevator. He said, ‘Sepe wants to talk to you. It’s important,’ and he looked at you, like, an angry dad or something. Then he went away and you – damn, I wish I remembered it word by word.” Teuvo chuckles and Sebastian is almost terrified to hear the rest. But more than that – he _needs_ to know.

“What did I say?” he asks impatiently.

Teuvo looks him in the eye. “It went something like this. ‘Teukka, I guess everyone else knows that I love you but if you, Teukka, don’t know it, I love you.’ And you went on how you don’t know in what way you love me but that you love me.” Teuvo’s lips stretch to a lopsided smile. “The point was pretty clear.”

Sebastian’s heart tumbles. Not that he regrets his words but the remorse of saying something like that totally blackout drunk is a different thing.

“Wow,” he blurts, for the lack of a better answer.

Teuvo ruffles his hair. “Then you went all ‘man you won’t believe that I meant it because I’m so hammered’. Yeah, it was a little _wow_ but, you know, pretty cute.”

Sebastian sighs deep. “I’m so sorry that I don’t remember.”

“Ah, never mind,” Teuvo says, face shutting down with a shadow of cautious disappointment. “Like I said, we should just forget about it.”

”No, no,” Sebastian rushes to whisper, ”That’s not what I meant. Honest to God, Teukka, I’m sure I meant every word but – man, I just hate myself that I didn’t say it when I’m sober enough to remember it. I don’t know who I love in this world if not you.”

A warm smile lights up Teuvo’s face like the sun. “Sepe,” he whispers, “I wish we were alone right now.”

Sebastian smirks, rubs his dry lips together and looks at Teuvo from under his brows. “Me too.” He glances at sleeping Veli-Matti over his shoulder. ”Why did he even come here with us?”

Teuvo rolls his eyes. “I have no idea. He’s a weird dude, seriously. He just kept hanging with us after you had said your say to me and said over and over again how he’ll miss all this, ‘I will _never_ play with guys as skilled as you again’, stuff like that. I guess I felt sorry for him so it didn’t feel right to send him away so he just tagged along. He fell asleep pretty quickly. And you, pretty quickly after that.” Teuvo leans closer. ”Big spoon,” he whispers.

Sebastian nods slowly. It’s coming back in blurred bits, an overwhelming need to be near Teuvo, hands all over him at every possible moment, hug and touch him, press to his side as if to apologize, not just his stupid cold shoulder moping tantrum but every moment he had spent apart from him.

And the _desire_, a burning question throbbing inside his whole body, _I don’t know what kind of love I have for you yet but oh man do I want to find out._ That last little drop of control that stopped him, _Fuck man I can’t, he will see and hear, I can’t do anything with Vellu here_.

He’s so grateful for that now. He breaks into cold sweat from the thought alone, what kind of memories he would have to try to coax out of his fuzzy blackout brain if he had just made the moves he was aching to try.

“I hope I didn’t… try anything?”

Teuvo pets his hair reassuringly. “You just fell asleep. Like I said. Hugged me and dozed off.”

Sebastian takes another look at the second bed. Veli-Matti’s eyelids flutter over closed eyes and it looks as if he pursed his lips together a bit too tight for someone fast asleep, but who’s to say you can’t hold back a smile in your sleep.

Did Veli-Matti, by any chance, chaperon him deliberately? Sebastian suspects that he will never ask, and that even if he did, he will never get a straight answer.

But, apparently, a father of a little boy and a man who has, since young age, found a family in friends, knows a little about love.

* * *

**~ The End ~**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the ride!
> 
> I'd love to hear from you! Comments and kudos cherished and highly appreciated. 
> 
> I'm [caixxa](https://caixxa.tumblr.com) and [ badhockeymom](https://badhockeymom.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


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